Round 1- Mr Butler in the Cellar with the Candlestick
by Frienze
Summary: Six people are playing a fanfic version of MFMM Cluedo. There's been a murder; the victim, Murdoch Foyle. We must discover the murderer's name, the weapon & in which room the murder was committed. Every player must 'investigate' by writing short stories. Mr Butler is just looking for some peace, but with Phryne & The Inspector around, it's not likely to happen.


Tobias Butler was a man of many merits, his good manners, kindly heart and unflappable nature had made him an irreplaceable member of the Fisher household. There was warmth, cheeriness about Mr Butler that warmed the entire household. One could not help but feel welcome where-ever Tobias Butler was. He had a certain paternal charm. Phryne sometimes, when thinking miserably back on the worse parts of her childhood, thought to herself that Mr Butler was the kind of father figure she had wished she'd had.

But possibly the most remarkable of all Mr Butler's qualities was these ease of acceptance he had for the frivolities of his Mistresses activities. Mr Butler did not care how many men Phryne entertained in her boudoir, how many criminals he had to fend off with a cricket bat, how often he got drugged or how many "strays" as it had once been put, Phryne brought home with her.

However for all his wonderful qualities, every so often Tobias Butler just needed some time to himself. A moments rest in the relentless whirlwind that was Phryne Fisher's life.

For Tobias Butler such a time came twice a week when he would go and make the wine selections down in the cellar. It was not an especially glamorous space, but Mr Butler had never been especially attached to glamour. The whole space had a musty smell, a mixture of wood, dust, stone and water. It was dark too. Since the bulb had burst he had simply made do bringing down a candlestick, using the lone flame to work his ways between the (rather extensive array) of liquor bottles.

The space was quiet, absurdly so for a house that brimmed with so much activity. Down here all sound was muted, and for a couple of minutes you could lose all sense of space and time and enjoy the pleasure of one's own company.

Indeed Mr Butler quite looked forward to his brief journeys to the cellar. It was his secret space.

Or so he thought. Naturally when making his way down the stairs to the cool room he was somewhat surprised to hear, instead of the familiar silence, the unmistakable sound of Phryne Fisher giggling (somewhat inappropriately by the sounds of it.)

Mr Butler went to make a hasty retreat as any good staff member would do when their Mistress had male company. However the voice he heard made him stop. The unmistakable deep voice of none other but the Detective Inspector himself.

"Remind me again Miss Fisher how you ever managed to get me to come down here? In the dark!"

This caused Phryne to laugh even more.

"Everything is much more fun in the dark." Even Mr Butler could not miss the salacious tone in her voice.

Mr Butler thought he might blush, if he was prone to doing so, which he wasn't.

At this point Mr Butler decided it was the time to escape, but the fates decided to conspire against him and as he turned he tripped a little on the stairs. Whilst he managed to regain his balance, the candlestick he was holding fell to the ground with and almighty clatter he was sure could be heard in Queenscliff. It certainly wasn't missed by the two other occupants of the room.

"I'm sorry Miss; I was just on my way down to choose the wines for tonight. I didn't realise you were down here." He called out. He couldn't actually see where Miss Fisher was. What with the candle extinguished the room was filled with total blackness.

"That's quite alright Mr Butler, Jack and I were just looking for a specific vintage- some poor chap's been poisoned by this wine, we suspect murder but we're wanting to cross examine the wine and the bottles. I just so happen to have the same one." Phryne's voice rang out cheerfully.

"Of course Miss."

It was an odd thing, certainly, but it was by no means the strangest thing that had happened in the household.

"I'm sorry Miss, I would leave, but I seem to have dropped my candle and well, it's dark."

"An excellent observation Mr Butler. I suppose there is nothing for it but to get on our hands and knees and search then."

In the fifteen minutes chaos that ensued there was considerable laughing. Mr Butler wondered if perhaps Miss Fisher and the inspector had been helping themselves to some of the collection down here. The laughter was broken by intermittent "Oh, Jack's!" on the occasions that "accidentally" their (and by "their" we mean Phryne's) hands ventured somewhere that would be completely unacceptable in the light. At least Phryne contested her hand on Jack's arse was an accident, a fact of which both Jack and Mr Butler were dubious.

Finally, after all of their knees were thoroughly sore "Found it!" Phryne cried. Jack and Mr Butler managed to find her and use Mr Butler's matches to relight it.

Finally able to leave he found his way to the doorway, as he went to exit he left the candlestick on the cellar floor. "I think you'll find it much easier to find that vintage you're after with this." He said the tiniest hint of a knowing smirk at the corner of his mouth. Jack looked a little relieved to be honest, and Phryne ever so slightly put off.

Mr Butler left, closing the door behind him and breathing a sigh of relief.  
Maybe he would have to find an alternate spot to relax in future.


End file.
